


When did the sky turn black (and when will the light come back?)

by paperowl



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Banter, By the smallest tweak, Gen, Huddling For Warmth, Hurt/Comfort, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Stargazing, Starvation, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, stranded in space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:02:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26621824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperowl/pseuds/paperowl
Summary: Stuck on a spaceship, somewhere in the middle of space, Tony and Peter stare into the dark vastness between the stars.  Tony's been stabbed, Peter almost gets hypothermia, and both of them grow to hate space food.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 15
Kudos: 67
Collections: The Friendly Neighborhood Exchange





	When did the sky turn black (and when will the light come back?)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ironxprince](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironxprince/gifts).



> This fic was inspired by the prompt Stargazing, but kind of also includes some touch starvation and possibly Tony adopting Peter if you squint. You're welcome, @emraldmoon, I got all your prompts (or at least the vibes) into this fic! I meant to make it the angstiest, saddest fic ever, but the banter just, happened. So it's only kind of angsty, but hopefully nice and entertaining.
> 
> Thank you to the Friendly Neighborhood Exchange for continuing to run these wonderful events!
> 
>  **Update:** [@itstimeforachange](https://archiveofourown.org/users/itstimeforachange/pseuds/itstimeforachange) was kind enough to read through this fic for me, and she made a small comment that sparked an extra 1.7k words to be added. It's currently monday (9/28) and _so_ last minute, but it makes the fic so much better. It also evens out the vibes and makes it much more angsty. Hope y'all like it!

**Day 1** ————— 

Peter stumbled onto the ship, Tony doing his best to support himself and put as little weight on him as possible. Peter glanced around, noticing what looked like a bench in front of them, and led Tony over to it to sit. After Tony sat down and glared at him, Peter flopped down next to him with a sigh. He leaned his head back against the walls of the ship.

“What do we do now?” He asked, looking over to Tony who was wincing in pain while trying to get a good look at his stab wound.

Tony leaned back and looked at Peter, “I don’t know, kid. I don’t know.” He sighed, wincing at the movement in his side.

“I- I could web it up for you.” Peter offered, unsure of what else to do. “Webs actually work as a pretty good stab wound bandage if you need them in a pinch.”

Tony gave Peter a look that said, _‘Do I even want to know?’_ , but he actually said, “Do I need to give you a lecture on proper wound treatment? And what have you been doing? I’ve never heard of any stab wounds.”

Peter rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “Well, I might have had a few from when I fought the Vulture…and maybe there were a couple more after that?” 

Tony raised his eyebrows, “Oh there were? And I didn’t hear about them because..?”

“I didn’t want to bother you, and they healed in a few hours anyway, so like, there wasn’t really a point,” Peter said.

“Huh, I distinctly remember installing a safety protocol that would alert me if you had any serious injuries, like stab wounds, for example. Any chance you know what happened to it?” Tony asked.

Peter cleared his throat, “Yeah, so I might have disabled it? On accident?” It was very much not an accident, but he didn’t want Tony to know just how much he’d figured out about the suit. 

“On accident?” Tony asked incredulously.

“Yeah, but it’s not really important.” Peter rushed his words so he could move to a different topic in the hopes Tony would drop it. “So you want me to web it up or not?” The twitch in Tony’s mouth told Peter he would not be dropping it.

“Wound care 101 - clean the damn thing before you bandage it. Were you really raised by a nurse? Because I’m seriously starting to doubt it.”

“Uh, what do we clean it with?” Peter asked, “We’re not really near anything, especially human things.”

“Well that Star-Lord idiot was human, so maybe this ship of his has some first aid stuff. Why don’t you go digging around a bit?” 

Peter shrugged and got up, heading off to explore the ship, “Okay, let me know if a Sarlacc or something comes and tries to eat you.”

“Hey!” Tony called after him, “What did I say about pop culture references?” 

Peter pretended not to hear.

* * *

Peter was unable to locate a first aid kit and they had to make do with some water, an old, hopefully clean, shirt that they found on the ship, and some web fluid. It wasn’t the best, but it was all they could manage. After they’d cleaned up as well as they could, Tony wandered over to the controls of the ship and Peter grabbed some food from the (thankfully large) ration stock.

“You ever flown a spaceship before?” Peter asked, sitting down in one of the seats near Tony.

Tony, examining the controls with a furrowed brow, shot a glance at Peter, “No, but I’ll figure it out. It worked out decently last time.” 

“Well, you did kind of crash it into the planet,” Peter said.

Tony glared at Peter, but there was no heat behind it. “Ah, great. You found food!” He said, noticing what was in Peter’s hands.

“Yeah, there’s a pretty big stash. It should last for a while,” Peter said, handing Tony one of the bags.

Tony sat down across from Peter and opened his bag, he looked inside and then reexamined the packaging. “Peter, these are freeze-dried apples.” 

“Oh, I didn’t notice the labels.” Peter said, examining his own bag, “Mine’s freeze-dried bananas.”

“You don’t happen to know if all of the rations are fruit, do you?” Tony asked, taking a bite of an apple ring.

“I didn’t pay attention,” Peter shrugged. “I can go check to see. I kind of want more than bananas anyway.”

Peter got up from his chair and walked towards the supply room with all the rations. When he got there it was as feared, all of the ‘pretty big stash’ was fruit or vegetables. Peter dug through every container and shelf and managed to come up with a box of MREs, but it would only last them a week and a half, maybe two, if they only took one each a day.

Peter brought a couple out and relayed the bad news to Tony, who just sighed and ran a hand through his hair before accepting the bag Peter held out to him. The two of them ate in silence, digesting what had happened over the past day.

Tony finished his meal, and stood up, groaning as he did. “I’m getting too old for this shit,” He grumbled, and set about working on the controls for the ship again. 

Peter sat and watched, asking the occasional question and providing suggestions. After a good chunk of time had passed and both Tony and Peter were ready to call it quits they heard a noise. A good noise, the noise of the ship’s engines whirring to life. It didn’t take long and they were in the sky, on a course in the general direction of earth. Tony and Peter settled back into their chairs and watched the stars drift by.

“Wow.” Peter said, “Space is like... so huge.”

“Yeah?” Tony said absently.

“Like I knew it was big but I didn’t know it. Plus we were distracted on the way here, so I didn’t really have time for stargazing.”

“Well,” Tony shifted in his seat, “we’ve got plenty of time now, so gaze away.”

**Day 7** ————— 

Peter awoke to grunting and groaning, he slipped off of his cot and followed the noise to see Tony easing himself to the front of the ship and settling into one of the chairs there. Peter followed, slipping into the seat next to Tony and looking out at the still never-ending vastness of space.

“Sorry if I woke you up, it’s just this fucking infection. Can’t sleep.” Tony said, almost in a whisper.

Peter shrugged, “It’s okay,”

They stayed in silence for a few minutes before Peter spoke again, “What do you think the constellations are up here?”

“I don’t know, kid,” Tony said, a wince evident in his voice.

“I bet you could find versions of our constellations up here,” Peter said.

“Yeah, probably. Constellations are just connect-the-dots anyway.” Tony said.

“You think you can find one?” Peter asked, trying to distract from the situation at hand. It was a flimsy distraction, but Tony grabbed hold of it and started scanning the sky.

After a surprisingly short amount of time, Tony pointed to the left and said, “You could make a big dipper out of that.”

“I found Orion’s belt,” Peter said, gesturing to a group of stars to his right that could be a line.

“You can make a little dipper out of the same stars, just add those three on the end,” Tony added.

“What end?” Peter asked.

“The uh, left one,” Tony said, lifting his arm and pointing this time.

Peter sighed, “This is as many constellations as I can remember. Also, it’s kind of boring. What if we made up our own?”

“Okay,” Tony said, “Your education has massively failed you, by the way.”

“It’s not like they knew I was gonna get stuck in space. I wasn’t really into astronomy anyway.” Peter said, scanning the stars in front of him for some visible shape. “Hey look! I found something.”

“What is it?” Tony asked, eyes still searching the sky.

“The broom,” Peter said.

“Really, the broom. You couldn’t come up with anything more creative?” Tony asked, turning his head toward Peter, “Alright what does it look like?”

Peter pointed to Orion’s belt / the little dipper, “See those stars coming out from the end? That’s the broom.”

“Pfft, that could be anything. That’s like if I pointed to those stars over there,” Tony gestured rather vaguely in front of them, “and called it the spider.”

“I take offense to that!” Peter said, a smile still crossing his lips. “I mean whoever came up with constellations in the first place wasn’t much better, what’d we get? A couple of ladles and a belt, with a few other blobs of stars that only like four people can actually find. I can make up whatever I want.”

“Fair enough,” Tony said, shifting in his seat for what must have been the fifth time in the past few minutes.

“Hey, Mr. Stark?” Peter asked, sounding more timid than he liked.

“Mmm?” Tony hummed. “What?”

“I know you’ve slept out here before but you always wake up really stiff. I think you should try and sleep laying down for once,” Peter said.

“And where is this coming from?” Tony asked.

“You’re in a bad mood when you’re stiff, and also you kind of already have a stab wound? That’s infected? So you need good sleep.” Peter said.

“Kid, you’re-” Tony paused mid-sentence, “…actually learning.” He nodded at that before continuing, “I hate it.”

Peter wasn’t sure how to respond, but Tony continued talking. “Pepper is going to be so happy when I tell her there was someone here to nag me about proper sleep and all that bullshit. When will I ever get a break?”

“When you go to sleep on a cot for once,” Peter said, enjoying how overly dramatic Tony had become.

Tony groaned, “I think you’re her new favorite person. This is incredibly unfair.”

Peter did his best to stifle a laugh, but Tony clearly heard it because he rolled his eyes and said, “Fine, I’m doing it. Just to make you shut up.”

He held up a finger to Peter when he tried to help Tony up from his seat. “Absolutely not, this is where I draw the line.”

“Okay,” Peter said, “I’ll catch you when you pass out in fifteen steps then.” 

Tony gave a long-suffering sigh, “Why did I have to get stuck with you?”

Peter looped Tony’s arm over his shoulders and started helping Tony back to the cots. “I don’t know, maybe Thanos knew you’d hate it.”

“Bastard,” Tony muttered.

**Day 10** ————— 

Even on a mid-sized spaceship sometimes Tony and Peter needed some time to themselves, which is why Peter thought nothing of it when he didn’t see Tony for several hours in a row. For all he knew Tony could be digging around in the mechanics of the ship, fixing something Peter didn't even know existed. Peter wandered the ship aimlessly, partly out of boredom, and partly out of a little seed of worry that something had happened to Tony. 

After enough casual searching, Peter decided he just couldn’t bother anymore and started actively listening for a heartbeat. He missed it a couple of times, finally landing right outside of the engine room. There was just enough background noise that a heartbeat blended right in, especially at the elevated level Tony’s was beating at.

Peter eased open the door, weaving between machinery and pipes until he rounded a battery stack and found Tony sitting on the floor leaning against the wall. His head was tilted back and his brow glistened with sweat. He might have been trembling a bit, but that could be a trick of the light, Peter didn’t know. Tony gave no indication that he’d noticed Peter, not even when Peter sat down next to him. 

Peter didn’t say anything, he didn’t know exactly what was happening, but he had a pretty good guess. He didn’t need to guess for long though, because Tony started to talk. It was quiet, almost a whisper, without any forewarning. Tony hadn’t even opened his eyes.

“You know about New York, kid? 

“Yeah,” Peter said, sensing this was not the time for a snarky comment about how there’s no possible way he’d missed an alien invasion into his own city.

“You know about the—” Tony’s voice caught, “—missile?” 

“Yeah,” Peter said again, wondering what direction they were headed.

“I’ve got PTSD ...from almost dying. I used to be a mess, but things were fine, I was over it, until I had to go and get stuck in _fucking space_.” Tony choked out.

And then things clicked. The jumpiness, the reluctance to do anything but work on different mechanics in the ship to ‘figure out how they worked, staying away from views of space, and getting shifty when they were in sight. “Is this why you get up every night when you think I’m asleep?” Peter asked, figuring it was the easiest question to answer.

Tony tilted his head to look at Peter though half-open eyes and an expression that said, _‘How’d you know about that?’_.

Peter gestured in the vicinity of his ear, “Super-hearing.”

“And?” Tony asked.

Peter made a confused expression, “And what?”

“You’re up to hear it. So why are you awake?” Tony said, shifting his position a bit and looking more directly at Peter.

“I just can’t sleep,” Peter said, which was technically the truth. Just maybe not all of it.

Tony raised an eyebrow, “Because?”

“You’re deflecting,” Peter said, knowing full well that—

“So are you.”

Peter sighed, “So?”

“So we need to talk about it,” Tony said, leveling his gaze with Peter’s.

“Yeah, we do,” Peter responded, giving a pointed look to Tony.

Tony rolled his eyes, muttering something about _‘stubborn teenager’_ before saying, “Alright kid, since you’re so set on this, I’m gonna share a bit, and then you’re gonna share a bit. Because I’ve already told you something, you’ve gotta go first. Start it all on even ground.”

“Okay,” Peter said resignedly, wishing he didn’t have to go first.

Tony pushed off the wall and turned, sitting cross-legged facing Peter. Peter followed suit, and now they were sitting facing each other and things suddenly felt way more vulnerable than they had before. Peter just wanted to forget about all of this when they got back to earth, and saying it now meant they’d have to acknowledge being stuck in space, which he wasn’t a huge fan of. However, he and Tony were sleeping in the same room and it was bound to come out eventually, so Peter took a risk.

“I kind of, maybe… also have PTSD,” Peter said, pitching it like a question even though it wasn’t.

There was a flash of surprise across Tony’s face but he quickly regained a neutral expression. “Okay... what from?”

“So you know the Vulture?” Peter asked.

“Yeah, the piece of shit who crashed my plane,” Tony said, annoyance creeping into his voice.

“So um, it’s from that. And also almost dying,” Peter said, borrowing Tony’s phrasing from before. 

“I hope I’m correct in assuming the almost dying is related to the Vulture,” Tony said.

“Yeah, you are,” Peter said, running his finger back and forth along a groove in the floor.

“Well, now that we’re even, it’s my turn.” Tony took a breath, “The not sleeping was half infected stab wound and half avoiding nightmares.”

“Yeah,” Peter nodded, “me too. Except it was all avoiding nightmares.”

There was a pause, and neither of them knew what to say next. Peter figured he could say what he’d been meaning to ask this whole time.

“Why were you in here?” Peter asked, “If I can ask questions.”

“Yeah, you can.” Tony responded, running a hand through his hair, “I was in here panicking about, y’ know, being stuck in space. I’d also avoid your super-hearing picking up on me freaking out, which was a plus.”

“Oh,” Peter said, not sure what to say to that.

“Peter, you don’t have issues with space but you’re up every night, so I want to know, normally how many nightmares are you having?” Tony asked.

“Maybe a couple a week?” Peter shrugged, “I haven’t really counted.”

“How many nights a week do you sleep?” Tony asked.

“Hey wait,” Peter interjected, “I need to ask you something first.”

“Alright, continue,” Tony said.

“Are you okay?” Peter asked.

“Relatively. It’s nothing you need to worry about.” Tony said lightly, waving with his hand.

“I think it is.” Peter said, “I need to know if you’re not okay. There’s only the two of us up here, so if I don’t worry about it who will?”

“Oof, that was a good one kid, you should do this professionally,” Tony said. “So, circling back, how many nights a week are you sleeping?”

Peter let the joke go, sensing that Tony wasn’t going to share much more. “Um yeah, only a couple.”

“So every time you sleep you have a nightmare?” Tony asked.

“Yeah,” Peter said, “But it’s alright, I’m dealing with it.”

“No, you’re not, kid,” Tony said with a sad laugh. “Dealing with it does not mean avoiding sleep for fear of a nightmare most nights of the week. Trust me, I know.”

“My turn,” Peter said. “Is there anything I can do? Like to help? Or should I just let you have panic attacks in the machine room in peace?”

“You know how bad it sounds when you phrase it like that, right?” Tony asked, the touch of annoyance he put on negated by the look on his face. “Yeah, I guess you can interrupt me. And now that I know you’re not sleeping either, you might as well join me at night.”

“Okay,” Peter said, “I’m out of questions. But I know you’re gonna keep going, so can I just... say no to some questions?”

“Yeah, of course,” Tony said. 

“Alright, you can start again,” Peter said, and he didn’t know when he’d stopped rubbing the groove in the floor so he started up again.

“Does May know?” 

“No.”

“What about your friends?”

“No, no one knows but you,” Peter said, daring a glance up at Tony from where he was following his finger up and down the groove.

Tony grabbed Peter’s wrist, “You’re going to rub it raw if you keep going,” He said by way of explanation, moving on to the next question without letting go. “How bad is it? Like during the day, how much does it affect you? Aside from sleep deprivation.”

“I- it’s kind of everywhere. So a lot I guess?” Peter said, fiddling with his sleeve with the hand Tony wasn’t holding.

Tony started absentmindedly running his finger over Peter’s wrist bone as he asked his next question. “What’s triggering you? I thought you were in a plane crash, that’s not really an everyday exposure type of thing.”

“It’s uh, not about the plane crash. Like sometimes it is, but not a lot.” Peter said, shrugging. “It’s kinda weird it didn’t affect me more, to be honest. It always sounds crazy when people say I was in a plane crash.”

“If it wasn’t the plane crash, then what was it?” Tony asked, a very lost look on his face.

“Before the plane crash, I found him in a warehouse. I tracked him with my phone, which I left in his car when he dropped Liz and me off for homecoming. He did a whole evil villain monologue, and then he got all smug, and—” Peter stopped, unable to continue without crying or panicking.

“And?” Tony prompted.

Peter tried to tamp down the rising panic and swallow the lump in his throat, tears started to fall anyways. “And then he got his wings to fly around and knock out all the supports, and it— it collapsed. On top of me.”

“ _Fuck,_ ” Tony breathed, leaving a long silence before saying, “So, buildings?”

Peter nodded, “Yeah.”

“Fuck,” Tony said again.

Peter looked up at Tony, “I have delicate ears you know.”

Tony cracked a small smile, “No you don’t. I watch you on patrol, remember? You can swear just fine, so deal with it.”

“Shi—” Peter’s eyes went wide and he stopped in his tracks, caught in the act, “...I forgot you watched those.”

Tony chuckled, “Yeah, I still watch them. I’ve got to make sure you’re not constantly crashing planes and breaking up alien tech weapons rings.”

Peter sniffed, “So, do we have to talk about…”

“Not if you don’t want to. It’s not like we can really do anything up here, so we can just ignore it for now.” Tony said, reaching up and wiping a tear off of Peter’s cheek with his thumb. “But if you need to talk about it I’m here. Can’t go anywhere else, actually. Even if you need me in the middle of the night, I’ll probably be up anyway. Okay?”

“Okay,” Peter nodded. “Can we go, I don’t know, search for aliens or something? I’m kind of done with emotions for the day.”

Tony chuckled, and then cleared his throat, “How about some foil football instead? I’m not really in a staring into space mood.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.” Peter said.

“It’s alright,” Tony said, getting up and tugging Peter’s arm for him to follow. Peter rolled his eyes and got up, ignoring the fact that Tony was still holding his hand, he had a feeling they both needed it.

**Day 14** ————— 

Peter and Tony had taken to updating each other on their newest constellations over meals, it helped distract a bit from the monotony of what they were eating. It also distracted from the fact that they were still stuck on a ship, just flying through the middle of space.

“R2-D2,” Peter said, “I’m telling you, there’s a little dome at the top and little legs at the bottom, see?” He said, tracing the shape over and over as if it would clarify anything to Tony, who was looking at it from a different perspective.

“No, it’s clearly a cat.” Tony responded, “What you’re calling feet are actually paws and the little stars above, that you’re failing to account for, are the ears.” Tony too, was trying to convey the shape with gestures, and it was working just as poorly as Peter had experienced.

“Okay, let’s agree to disagree.” Peter said, “You know the broom?”

“Ah yes, a classic,” Tony said, nodding.

“Well if you look at the other end, it’s actually Thor’s hammer,” Peter said.

“Hm,” Tony said, popping a piece of fruit in his mouth. “I can see that one. Good job, we can add it to the list.”

Peter opened the notebook in his lap and jotted it down. “You know, I enjoy having a list, but how are we going to figure out where we were when we saw these? It doesn’t really do anything if we don’t have a way of identifying them in the future.”

“Beats spelling words backwards,” Tony said, “What’s on the list anyway? Are these even constellations we want to remember again?”

Peter started from the top of their now good-sized list of constellations, “The broom, spider, mushroom, bow that could be Orion’s but we’re calling it Hawkeye’s, hanger, pen, antlers, the stars, anchor, and Thor’s hammer.”

“I don’t remember agreeing to the stars,” Tony said, “it’s literally just stars.” 

“Well _I_ don’t remember agreeing to the spider. Which by the way, is kind of offensive since you were the one advocating for Hawkeye’s bow and yet refuse to call the spider Peter.” Peter said.

“In my defense, the bow is his weapon, not his mascot,” Tony said.

Peter glared at him and popped a bit of food into his mouth, immediately grimacing, “I’m starting to hate freeze-dried fruit.” He said, quickly chewing and swallowing his bite of an apple ring.

“Starting? I think I’m already halfway there.” Tony said, frowning at his mango bits. “How much more of these do we have?”

“We’re out of MREs as of like, four days ago? And we have less than a week of dried fruit.” Peter said.

Tony rubbed his eyes and sighed, “Alright well, won’t have to deal with this for much longer then, will we?”

Peter couldn’t tell if Tony was referring to an imminent rescue or that they’d have to run out of food eventually. He also couldn’t tell which idea seemed more plausible.

“Alright,” Tony said, “Back to work on the fuel cells. It shouldn’t be much longer and we can get them up and running for when the last intact one runs down.” He stood up, only then seeming to realize he still had food left. “Here Peter, you take the rest of this.” He held the bag out to Peter.

“No.” Peter said, “You’re still technically recovering from an infection, you need it.”

“You’re an enhanced teenage boy with a metabolism to rival Captain America’s, you need it too. More than I do.” Tony said, thrusting the bag towards Peter more forcefully.

Peter hesitated, and then grabbed the bag, “Half and half?”

“Alright,” Tony sighed, “I was really hoping you’d take all of them just so I would have an excuse not to eat any more.”

“You can have the apricots tomorrow.” Peter said, “I don’t mind.”

Tony gave him a look. “I think you do. But thanks.” He ruffled Peter’s hair and smiled as he walked off, leaving Peter with the rest of the apples he’d said he would eat.

**Day 18** ————— 

Peter couldn’t stop shivering. He knew why, but acknowledging it would make it real. Instead, he blamed it on the ship’s heating system, something that was working, but quit around the time the damaged fuel cells had been fixed. Peter grabbed as many blankets from the ship as he could find and curled up under them, doing his best to act like he was just a little cold, and that the bed could use more fluff, not that he was slowly freezing and he was starting to lose feeling in his toes and fingers.

“Your teeth are chattering,” Tony said to Peter as they were finishing their last meal.

“Oh. I didn’t notice.” Peter said, willing his teeth to stop, but when he did he started shivering instead.

Tony looked him over with a discerning eye, a skeptical look on his face. Now that the infection had mostly worked its way out Tony was paying more attention to Peter and his well-being. Because now he was healthy, well, healthier, the old arguments Peter had used against him no longer worked. He got to pay back all of Peter’s nagging with some nagging of his own, and it seemed like it went to his head sometimes.

“You’re shivering now. Something’s up.” Tony said, crossing his arms, “Come on, spill.”

“The heater broke and I can’t thermo-regulate well, so it’s pretty self-explanatory.” Peter said, “I know it uses more energy though, so I think it should stay broken. That way we can get farther.”

“Oh, kid.” Tony’s face softened, “You should have told me earlier.”

Peter shrugged, “I knew you’d get all worried about it, so I figured it was easier to just not mention it.”

“Alright, well it’s my turn to annoy you. We’re pushing the cots together and sharing body heat. This is non-negotiable.” Tony said, pushing out of his seat and walking to the cots, beckoning for Peter to follow.

Peter groaned and reluctantly got up, “But neither of us have showered in like a week, it’s gonna be so gross.”

“No ifs, ands, or buts about it,” Tony called over his shoulder. “Which is worse, hypothermia or a little bit of body odor?”

By the time Peter reached the cots Tony had already pushed them together and was arranging the blankets. “Body odor,” Peter said, “The body odor is definitely worse. Enhanced senses, remember?”

“Well it’s better than freezing, so hop in,” Tony said, sliding under his side of the blankets.

Peter sighed and followed suit, hating how Tony was right, the warmth was already the best thing he’d ever experienced. After a bit of warming up, when Tony noticed Peter was still shivering, he scooted over to Peter’s side and squished right up against him. It took a bit of rearranging, but Peter eventually got settled, his head on Tony’s chest, and Tony’s arm around his shoulders.

“Better?” Tony asked.

“Yeah,” Peter said, “I’m not shivering for the first time in, I don’t know, days?.”

“So I was right,” Tony said, “The warmth was good.”

“Yeah,” Peter sighed, “Maybe you were.”

After a while of silence, just enjoying the warmth, Peter spoke again, his tongue loosened a bit by the fact that he was comfortable and starting to fall asleep. “You know, the last person I hugged before all this was May.”

“Mm- Pepper.” Tony responded, “I miss her.”

“Yeah,” Peter said, “I mean, not Pepper, May. I’ve never even met Pepper.”

“Eh, you can miss her anyway. I know she and May are probably reinventing the infinity stones to try and find us.” Tony said.

“Well, if…” Peter trailed off, he didn’t want to think about it.

“Yeah, if..” Tony echoed. He squeezed Peter tighter for a moment, “You know I’m proud of you kid, like really proud. I know May is too, and... Pepper, when I tell her what you’ve been doing to me up here don’t be shocked if she pulls out adoption papers on the spot.”

Peter wanted to respond sincerely, but all that came out was, “She might have to.”

“She won’t,” Tony’s voice shook a bit. “And, if it comes to that, I have a feeling I’ll be doing it faster than she does.”

“You-” Peter started.

“Don’t have to?” Tony finished, “Yes, I do. You have nowhere else to go, the foster system is bound to be overwhelmed, and you’re superhuman. It’s best to look after you myself, Pepper wants a kid anyway, it’ll be fine.” Tony’s voice had a determination to it that was leaning just a bit in the wrong direction.

“Mr. Stark? I um, I kind of lied before.” Peter said, resigning himself to the conversation.

“About what?”

“I’m pretty sure the real reason I’m freezing,” Peter took a breath, “is because I’m starving. The heater kept it at bay for a while, but I can actually thermo-regulate almost normally most of the time.” Peter paused before continuing, “We’re- We’re going to die up here, aren’t we?” He whispered.

Tony started moving his thumb in circles on Peter’s arm. “I knew I couldn’t keep it from you forever, but I think so.” He swallowed, and then continued, “The replacement fuel cells should last us a couple more days, and then we start to run out of oxygen. I think we have about three or four days left.”

“I’m sorry I stowed away on the ship, it was a stupid idea. If I hadn’t we wouldn’t be here.” Peter said.

“Well, you wouldn’t be here, and I’d be alone. Maybe dead, if the infection had been any worse.” Tony said. “I’m not mad at you for it, not anymore.”

“Okay,” Peter said, his voice sounding smaller with every word he spoke. “Ever since I realized it, like really realized we’re probably stuck out here forever, the stars stopped looking pretty.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” Peter said, “They’re so distant and cold. Space just seems lonelier, and darker.”

“And you keep looking for something new,” Tony added, “Hoping something’s going to appear somewhere out there and come to help us, and nothing ever does.”

Peter nodded against Tony’s chest. Tony brought his hand up and ruffled Peter’s hair, planting a kiss on the top of his head, “At least we’ve got each other for the next while,” Tony murmured.

“Yeah,” Peter whispered hoarsely, trying not to cry into Tony’s shoulder.

**Day 21** ————— 

“Hey Pep,” 

_“Hey, May,”_

“If you find this recording, don't post it on social media. It's gonna be a real tear-jerker. I don't know if you're ever going to see these. I don't even know if you're... if you're still... Oh god, I hope so.”

_“I know I probably freaked you out, I didn’t really have time to tell anyone I was in space, it just kind of happened. I know you said not to leave school to go spider-manning but the world was kind of in danger, so I feel like I get a pass. I hope?”_

“Today is day 21, uh 22. You know, if it wasn't for the existential terror of staring into a void of space, I'd say I'm feeling better today. The infection's run its course, Thanks to Peter over there. You'd love him. Pretty smart. Nagged enough to annoy me to no end.”

_“I hope you’re still, you know, not dust. I don’t know if you’ll ever hear this, but I really miss you, and I hope.. that you’ll be okay without me. Tell Ned and MJ, if they’re okay, that I miss them too.”_

“Some fuel cells were cracked during battle, but we figured out a way to reverse the ion charge to buy ourselves about 48 hours of time. But it's now dead in the water. We're 1000 light-years from the nearest 7-11. Oxygen will run out tomorrow. And that'll be it.”

_“Mr. Stark’s been here the whole time, oh, and tell Ned I’m technically an avenger now. We’re uh, running out of oxygen soon. There were some issues with the fuel cells and now we’re just drifting, waiting for them to run out.”_

“And Pep, I ... I know I said no more surprises, but I was really hoping to pull off one last one. But it looks like... well you know what it looks like. Don't feel bad about this. I mean, if you grovel for a couple of weeks, and then move on with enormous guilt. Please know that... when I drift off, I will think about you. Because it's always you.”

_“The stars out here are really pretty though, you’d like them. You can see whole galaxies sometimes, stuff you’ll never see on earth. It’s nice. I’ll say hi to Uncle Ben for you, I larb you.”_

* * *

Tony let Peter go first, and Peter didn’t know what to say. He hoped, if he ever had the ability to look back on what he’d said, that everything that needed to be conveyed was there. Tony went second, and when he was done, Peter joined him up in the nose of the ship. Up where’d they’d started, it was only three weeks ago, but it felt like a lifetime.

Tony and Peter leaned against one another, drifting off one last time facing the stars.

“You know, I think they’re pretty again,” Peter mumbled.

“What are?” Tony asked.

“The stars.”

**Author's Note:**

> Does Carol come to rescue them? it's up to you, this is an AU after all. 
> 
> I hope the angst was angsty enough and the banter was fun. If y'all love this concept there's an Endgame fix-it that starts when Peter isn't dusted, but May and Pepper are. It continues from there and it's lovely. It's called [Only Time](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18762646/chapters/44510707).
> 
> I grabbed knowledge from my star wars friends to make that Sarlacc reference, if you're as clueless as I am, it just eats people and takes like a thousand years to digest them. It's horridly ugly and pretty scary, or so I've heard.


End file.
